Patterned Paper Moon
by Fireflyleo
Summary: This cannot be happening. Nope, I won't do it. The last time I saw this particular Nukenin, we were trying to rip each others' heads off. Now he decides to just drop in on my mission. Oh... If only I wasn't pretending to be a pleasure slave. SasuNaru, Yaoi
1. Meeting the eyes of your enemy

Title: Patterned Paper Moon

Summary: This cannot be happening! No, no, no! I refuse. The last time I saw the nukenin, we'd been trying to, for lack of a better phrase, rip each others' heads off. Now, he's decided to butt in on _my_ mission. Oh, if only I wasn't pretending to be a pleasure slave. And if that's not bad enough, they want me to serve him. Ha! That is so not happening. Do I look like I have a death wish? No, sir.

Verse: Anime/Manga with no particular timeline in reference to the actual story line.

Main Characters: Naruto and Sasuke. Sasu/Naru pairing. Yaoi. Don't like, don't read. This story is pretty intense like that.

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or any of its characters.

Warnings: This story is set in a very sexually charged atmosphere. If references to minors having sexual relations to adults, human trafficking, opiate usage, or unorthodox bedroom play disturb you, you have been warned.

Patterned Paper Moon

Chapter 1

Meeting the eyes of your enemy

When I accepted this mission, I knew risk I would be putting myself into. I knew of sacrifice I might have to make. I knew it was very likely that I would be degraded and used before accomplishing it. Hell, I even knew that it would take time to complete, about a month they told me. What I didn't know was quickly and how easily everything could go to hell just because of one miscalculation. No, it wasn't even a miscalculation. There should have been a zero percent possibility of this happening.

But, that's just my life, right?

I remember, well, walking into Tsunade no baa-san's office to find her hunched over her paperwork with an empty bottle of saki discarded to the left side of her desk. Her eyes are bloodshot, and I can just smell something is off. It's in her posture, in her breath, in the way her honey brown eyes look at me with traces of alcohol and emotion glittering in them. I can't tell if the expression is a result of over-drinking or over-crying or a combination of both, but whatever it is it's enough to put me immediately on edge.

"Naruto," she slurs only slightly. "I have a new mission for you."

I want to grin cheekily at her; go through my usual comedic antics for whenever she's been drinking. They always manage to make her smile at least a little bit, but something tells me now is neither the time nor the place.

"Naa, naa… What is it, Baa-san?"

"But before I give you this mission, there is one thing I must ask you."

"Hokage-sama?"

"Naruto, are you a virgin?"

Anything I might had to say, gets lodged in my throat, and I sputter at the unexpected question. Of all the things for her to ask.

"Th-that's none of your business!" I shout, pointing a finger at her.

"I'll take that as a yes then."

I spit and stutter at her before crossing my arms across my chest and pouting to the side wall.

"So what if I am! It's not my fault I hardly have any time to actually pursue a relationship around here."

Tsunade sighs at me like that's hardly an appropriate excuse. But it's true! Between the war and training and missions and training and catching Sasuke and training, I don't have time to be flirting around with, well, anybody really. I mean, I flirt with Sakura all the time, but that's just like trying to flirt with Sai. Even if the ink nin did somehow manage to figure out what the hell you were doing, you'd still never get a response back. And with Sakura. Haha, most I can even hope for is a punch to the gut. Or the head. Or both, depending on her mood.

"I was afraid you would be. Damn it, now I can't tell them you are unfit for the assignment."

"Eh?"

"This mission requires a virgin, specifically."

"But I'm sure there are plenty of people around-"

"Are you saying you don't want another mission?"

"Iie!" On the contrary, I've been bored as all hell here, having to sit tight while everyone and their dog (and I'm not kidding on that one - think about Kiba and Akamaru) were sent on missions outside the village without me. "I was just saying."

"The council has expressed a profound desire to see you follow this mission through. I tried to argue against them, but they were quite adamant."

"Baa-san, what is the mission?"

She extends the scroll out to me and when I take it, it's almost with relief that she drops her hand. As though she's glad to have it off her dest.

"You are being sent to the southern continent. You have one month to carry out your mission before a team of ANBU are sent to retrieve you."

I unroll the scroll, allowing it lie open on my lap.

"And what is my mission?"

My stomach drops out my gut as I scan over the page.

"Seduce and Execute. Your target is a dealer in human trafficking and illegal weapons manufacturing: the Sairi, Jai Kumar."

A woman enters the room from the side door. She's dressed elegantly in the traditional garb of a woman who serves in the house of the Fire Lord, a stiff kimono with a sash decorated in the symbol of the Fire Nation tangled with her obi. Her head is decorated in silver jewelry and she wears and assortment of rings and armlets across her hands and forearms.

"Naruto, this is Rasika, the chief courtesan of the Fire Lord. You will be under her tutelage for a week before you set off on your mission. Once your time with her is over, Sai will be your escort to the southern continent."

Of course that was all background noise to me, in the shock of discovering exactly what I'm meant to accomplish within the next month.

In that week, Rasika trained me in the art of seduction, in the different ways to entertain and please and excite another man. At first I was more than a little skeptical of the need to learn from her. Number 1, I am in fact a guy, and should know the basic gist of how 'please' another one if I felt so inclined. Number 2, I had Jiraiya for a sensei. I travelled with the old pervert for three years. I know every lame ass trick in his books, not that I would ever condone using them, but you pick up stuff about sex being around someone like that. And besides, no matter who your with, sex is still sex. It's pretty generic – at least that's what I thought at the time.

But Tsunade no baa-chan insisted. Even Sakura, who's normal so against any all discussion of sex, was telling me I should try and take in as much as I could, lest I find myself in, to borrow a word from Shikamaru, a troublesome predicament.

But my cynicism dispersed in just a few short hours of spending time with Rasika. The courtesan emphasized and explained that while, yes, I would most likely be put in a situation with another male and I should be able to handle something like that easily enough without training as most people do, I would not be taking the role of a man pleasing another man. I was going to be a pleasure slave pleasing its master, something very different.

She taught me what would be expected of someone in the role I would soon be fulfilling. She taught me the Geisha's craft to a T, and the woman relished in teaching me the ancient knowledge of the Kama Sutra. They were embarrassing lessons, ones I'm fairly certain I could have lived the rest of my life without, but this mission required a subtle seduction and reconnaissance that one would only be able to execute by paying strict attention to detail.

Tsunade told me the elders were testing not only my physical prowess as a ninja but also my ability to adjust and refine my methods to suit the mission. If all went well, I will not only have proved to them that I would make a more than capable recon and assassination nin, but I'll have granted myself access into the ANBU Black Ops and gained recognition from the council that could very easily result in the fulfillment of my ultimate goal of become Hokage.

There is a lot riding on this mission. It's important, and I know people like to think I'm dumb, but I'm not thick enough to jeopardize an S rank mission like this, especially when success meant getting one step closer to reaching my goal.

So a week later, Sai and I set out. Sai, pretending to be a rogue specialized in collecting potential slaves from exotic nations and would be selling his latest catch, me, to a local slave market. From there the vendor auctioned me off to the wealthiest bidders in the area. The trade went off without a hitch… mostly. Sai had better enjoy his balls while he's still got them. I will relish returning to Konoha just to beat the living shit out of him for openly gawking at me naked. Let's just suffice to say the guy the artist chose to sell me to liked to view the merchandise. I know it isn't technically the brunette's fault, but he could have at least turned away.

Oh, and if I hear anything even resembling a penis joke when I get home, let the emasculation begin.

Anyway…

It only took one try before Kumar took the bait, and I found myself bought and paid for by one of the crime lord's representatives. If on the off chance someone else beat Kumar to the purchase, Sai and I would have just cut our losses, gotten the heck out of dodge and returned in a few days with a new set of disguises, but thankfully it didn't come to that. That ended Sai's part in the infiltration.

The rest of the mission would be up to me.

* * *

I carefully balance a tray full of fruit on my right hip as I slip into the main hall. It's for the enjoyment of the Sairi and his latest flux of guests, aka business associates.

There's always something going on in this place. The Sairi is a fan of throwing lavish affairs, and he is certainly unopposed to displaying his wealth with the shameless parading of beautiful, handsome, and most often sexually accomplished men and women of his harem to the guests. The associates come and go as they please for business. And while they are in the household, they have access to most all the luxuries Kumar himself enjoys, including usage of the harem. Hopefully, I'll be able to keep dodging that bullet until then end of this mission. It's bad enough I might have to sleep with the criminal Kumar as it is.

It's been two weeks since my arrival to the household, and already under his guise of the blue eyed, brunette Yoshi, I've managed to collect a substantial amount of pertinent information. Between learning of this information through first hand meetings and listening in on the gossip that is the constant source of entertainment in the harem, I have been able to identify Kumar's business relations, where they operate from, and I've even been able to devise the best possible means of sabotage for future reference

In this aspect all is well, but in getting close to Kumar… let's just say the man is a tough cookie to crack.

"Yoshi!" calls one of the officers of the guard.

Holding the tray out in front of my person, I bow before offering a slice of pineapple to the guard. The man opens his mouth to receive it. The skin along my spine prickles in disgust. It's all I can do to keep from punching the invalid as the male makes lewd smacking noises with his lips around my fingers.

Tonight's party is particularly robust. There is noise and music. Several ladies of the harem dance for the men. Even I'm dressed far more nicely than what I've come to identify as customary. My outfit was picked by the head courtesan herself, white, silk harem pants with silver embroidery throughout and a silk cloth wrapped stylishly across his arms and torso. They've also gone out of their way to pierce one of my ears – damn that hurt, I'm never calling Chouji or Shikamaru effeminate again for having their ears pierced – and sprinkled my neck, head, and arms with small pieces of silver jewelry.

None of the other concubines or slaves had undergone the same treatment. All I've been told is that tonight an honored guest will be arriving at the compound, and that guest, whoever they are, would be staying for the remainder of the week. Apparently whoever is coming in is of pretty big cheese around here.

"Yoshi, keep me company, darling," calls one of the heavily made-up ladies, not slave or concubine, of the household. I languish in attending to her, feeding and massaging her back as I seek out the gargantuan form of Jai Kumar.

So far, I have only had one private meeting with him (private if you discount the presence of the ten guards who escorted me to the compound), and that was on the very first day I got here. The man is thicker, heavyset like Chouji, only it is painfully apparent that this man's mass could not be put to battle usage, with dark, cocoa colored skin, and a salt and pepper goatee. The Sairi circled me looking up and down, touching in quick fleeting glances, as though he was evaluating my worth and possibly calculating just how much pleasure he could derive from feasting on the virginal body set in front of him.

The experience was disconcerting at best. I've never felt that kind of knotting in his stomach or the rush of adrenaline meant to trigger a fight or flight response to the lecherous eyes leering at me. I've never felt what it feels like to be lusted after. I didn't think it would be so terrifying, but I'm willing bet my lifelong savings on that just being my reaction to a man like Jai Kumar. In that moment the man had looked at me (and still looks at me might I add) like a brand new toy he just can't wait to get his hands on.

So why hasn't he called on me to meet his wiles? Who cares, really? Sure he's required me to dance on more than one occasion for the court, but that was all. Not that I'm complaining, but I can't keep the feeling of apprehension down as the days continued to pass without the worse coming and going. It leaves me feeling more than a little uneasy about this whole shift in demeanor towards me. I've gotten far too much attention tonight, and considering my current state dress and the not so unwelcome pampering I received earlier, it is safe to surmise that I won't be left alone for long. Hmm, I wonder if I might, perhaps, be able to wrap up this mission ahead of schedule.

From where he sits framed by a large pile of pillows, carpets, and tapestries, Jai Kumar sucks up all the space in the room. His swollen belly shudders with is boisterous laughter as one of the younger servant girls delivers him a message. He pulls her in for a kiss, and she scurries away immediately after he lets her go.

His voice booms through the court.

"Ah, my closest family, it seems our guest has arrived."

Everyone draws their activities to an immediate close and stands. I lift my tray over my head as I do the same, and look around for where the other pleasure servants are standing. Today, we are all congregating at the far side of the chamber, tactically placed away from where the guest of honor is meant to sit.

"Yoshi," calls Kumar. "Come, sit by me."

He gestures to a small pile of blankets at his feet

I approach cautiously to accept the indicated, settling in reluctantly against the fronts of his calves. His hand threads through my, currently brown hair, twirling the locks around his index and middle finger.

"Escort in our guest, Vizier."

I look on with unveiled interest as the tall double doors swing open. What I find causes my heart to race with anxiety. It's a group of four shinobi, one of which is probably one of my distant cousins, and another is someone who, while maybe under any other circumstances I would have happy to see, could very cause my entire operation to go up in smoke.

I twist my head down violently with a silent curse. For all appearances, it looks as though I'm simply bowing my respects to the new arrivals. My senses are on overdrive, and I can hear their footsteps enter the hall, heading in Kumar's direction, heading in my direction.

Kumar's sandaled foot kicks me none too gently in my lower back. I hold back the wince.

"Come, come, Yoshi. Don't be shy, now. Look up."

And I do. Only to come in direct contact with the darkest pools of black I have ever, will ever, lay my eyes on. My eyes widen by decibels. His stoic expression doesn't shift even a millimeter, but there is only the most invisible narrowing of his eyes. Anyone could have missed. Anyone who wasn't me, that is.

I avert my gaze to somewhere down and to the right, somewhere away from those eyes, as Kumar rises from his seat behind me to welcome the travelers.

"Ahah, welcome back! We've missed the pleasures of your company."

"As always, Kumar, you've out done yourself."

"It's never too much to make an honored guest feel welcome. Please sit."

I find myself once again being kicked, only this time not as hard. Really, this time it's more of a nudge.

"Yoshi, my dear, why don't you fetch us some wine for our guests?"

Gladly. I rustle my way to the door to the kitchens, using all my willpower to keep from running. Running from the eyes that have not left my form since we made eye contact. I can only pray he doesn't have the Sharingan activated as I shut the door behind me. I wilt against the cold stone surface. I will not allow my panic to come to full fruition. I refuse. I need to think. I need to plan. I need to do something other than have a heart attack in the middle of the wine cellar.

I calm myself as I prepare the wine, setting it and several glass goblets on a fresh tray. It isn't until I'm opening the door once again that the million dollar question enters my mind.

What the hell was Sasuke Uchiha doing here?

TBC

Dun Dun dun…

Author's Note: Hey all. So that's the first chapter for Patterned Paper Moon. Let me know what you think about it so far. I've had this idea on my mind for a while, and finally decided to have it out. I expect this story to be fairly short, no more than 5 or 6 chapters, and I will probably have it finished sooner rather than later. Chapter 2 is in the making.

Like I said in the warning, there will be some pretty explicit stuff going on in here, because of that I will be posting adult content to my live journal account rather than here. I don't want to upset the mods. You'll be able to find links to the chapters on my profile when they come out.

But anyway, that's all for now. Drop me a review if you want more sooner.


	2. Meeting the night with dread

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or any of its characters.

Warning: The chapter contains yaoi content, that means boy/boy interaction. No like, no read.

Enjoy!

Patterned Paper Moon

Chapter 2

Meeting the night with dread

Reentering the hall is like diving head first in to a swarming pot of bees. There's no sting, other than the burn of lecherous eyes, but the buzz combined with a heady mix of sweat and incense is a perfect recipe for instant headache, at least in my case.

Sasuke and Sairi are holding court at the very center of the convoluted mess. Sasuke's teammates, particularly the one with the doggedly sharpened teeth, tuck in to the food that's been placed in front of them. The Uchiha however, makes a point to barely even touch the setting he's been provided giving off a distinct air of disinterest whenever one of the harem girls attempts to coddle him. All it achieves is sending them away giggling and blushing harder than before, but Sasuke's too busy not giving a damn to care. Kumar, however, shows no restraint, posturing and gesticulating with a chicken leg in hand as he speaks.

Placing one foot carefully in front of the other, I maneuver my way around the gyrating courtesans and the writhing bodies of couples being just a tad overindulgent under the opium high to reach the main table. Hyper aware of the item in my hands, I actually start to sweat a little. _Don't you drop that wine bottle, Naruto. You remember what happened the first time you dropped something._ Yeah, it wasn't pleasant. They hung me upside down in the cellar for an hour as retribution for the causing disturbance, and that had just been an empty food tray. I don't want to find out what they do for dropping and breaking a fairly expensive bottle of wine.

"It has been so long, Uchiha-sama. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

I keep my head bowed, playing perfectly my role of obedient dog as I first fill Kumar's glass then make my way around to each member of Taka in turn. No one would ever suspect I was actually paying attention to the conversation.

"You know very well why I'm here, Kumar, seeing as you're the one who contacted me. Is your messenger recovering from the encounter?"

"Hohoho, you don't miss a trick, do you. But how kind of you to ask." (Oh, give me a break.) "Yes, he and what's left of him are recovering nicely on my pocketbook. His wife was devastated he had to give up his right hand, but he's perfectly alive, if that's what you're wondering."

Sasuke chews quietly, the muscles in his neck working to swallow down the little bit of food he's placed in his mouth. I find myself distracted for a second. Just a second until he speaks again.

"My question is why you felt the need to wire one of your men with explosives meant for me?"

"Nonsense! I was simply testing you," chides the Sairi. "Bringing harm to you was never my intention. I merely wanted to see if your skills truly matched the rumors. Of course seeing as you're still very much alive and that my man is in much the same condition as before, save for a few meaningless bumps and bruises, I would say the rumors are true and you have indeed acquired your brother's Sharingan. Only someone with the same talents as Madara Uchiha himself could have detected and diffused that bomb successfully."

"Let's say I believe you. What is your purpose in contacting me?"

"I believe I might have a dash of information you may enjoy hearing. But we can talk about that later."

My hands shake nervously as I lower the wine bottle to Sasuke's goblet. _Don't drop the wine bottle._ A hand clamps down on my wrist. He breaks his concentration on Kumar as he pushes me away, looking directly at me. He could have just put his hand over the goblet's rim if he didn't want any. Instead he chose to touch me. How uncharacteristic of him. I guess the bastard isn't in the mood for drinking. I pull away, offering another sullen tilting of my head, careful not to panic.

On a personal note, this is way too much bowing for me, and I'm pretty sure we all know that I would never ever in a million years duck my head to anyone other than a Kage, but Rasika said to be respectful, so blah… It helps that watching one of the younger boys get whipped for not bowing to a guest reinforced that little lesson. Yeah, it happened in the middle of the dining hall, and I would rather not be made an example of.

Anyway.

Kumar tutts at Sasuke's action.

"You never were one for indulgence, Sasuke-san. I remember very well your habits of remaining disinterested to my luxuries despite Orochimaru's attempts to introduce you to them."

The oversized lord snaps his fingers at me, pointing at his already empty wine glass. Two weeks ago I wouldn't have been able to believe it. Now it's just with a very mild awe that I return to the man's side and refill the glass, keenly aware of the eyes at my back.

"Perhaps, this visit you might like to enjoy the full extent of my hospitality."

Screw this conversation. I'm going back to the kitchen. At least that's my every intention when I cap off Kumar's goblet and turn in that direction, but Kumar has other ideas. He grabs me around the waist and pulls me into his lap. It's only a small consolation that I do not drop the wine bottle. Kurama laughs in my ear as he claps.

Kumar's greasy fingers pinch my face, and keeping the revulsion off my features is a lot like trying to swallow a mouthful of bitter medicine. Very difficult. But achievable if you set your mind to it.

"Don't think I didn't notice you eyeing my little Yoshi, here. Taken an interest, maybe?"

No, no, no, no, no. I don't want to be interesting to Sasuke. Yoshi does not want Sasuke being interested in him. Nope, no sir. We, Yoshi and I, want to stay as far away from the teme as humanly possible for the remainder of this mission.

This is too important.

Any other time is fine. Perhaps we can reschedule?

Sasuke doesn't answer, but Kumar angles my head so that we're staring straight at each other. I try to deflect my gaze, choosing instead to give my attention to the air just about his right shoulder.

"To be honest, I was rather hoping you would find him to your liking. You see, this one's come into my possession only recently. I haven't even touched him."

Well, you doing a good amount of that now, aren't you, you asshole!

"A virgin, if that makes him any sweeter to you. Entirely untouched. I thought he might make a suitable companion for you during your stay. What do you say, Sasuke-sama?"

Karin looks like she's about to have an aneurism. Beside her Suigetsu is just beside himself with laughter, and Juugo – that's his name right? – just looks wholly uncomfortable with the whole thing. Hell, I'm uncomfortable with the whole thing. I don't even attempt to analyze Sasuke's expression. He's probably trying to kill the Sairi with his eyes, something he's actually quite capable of doing these days. I should know. He tried to make me a test dummy for the technique.

Sasuke doesn't answer.

"But I guess if you don't want his company, I'll be more than happy to take him for the night. I've been dying to get a taste of this lovely morsel since he got here. It's been such a long time since I've had a virgin."

Kumar leans in toward me for a kiss. I dodge out of the way, so that his lips catch my jawbone. I cringe. The man laughs at my "bashfulness."

I don't know which the worse or better scenario is. At this point in time, both are equally undesirable but for very different reasons.

"You wouldn't mind me breaking in something of yours?"

Sasuke's gaze is steady with a glint of challenge glittering in his eyes. He isn't looking at Kumar, though. I visibly flinch.

Kumar relinquishes my face.

"On the contrary, I am, in essence, only a servant, Sasuke-sama. I seek to please my business partners by any and all means in my power, and I feel that you are a man who requires their gifts to be untouched by others. Thus, I present you this flower as both a gift and hopefully, a representation of our blooming partnership."

So he's trying to form a business relationship with Sasuke, hence my being whored out.

There isn't a person in the room with a halfway decent head on their shoulders who didn't catch the pun. I'm torn between laughing outright and trying to drown myself in a nearby vase. The man is basically offering up my, or rather Yoshi's, virginity up to Sasuke as a bargaining chip to form a concrete business arrangement with the Uchiha. Rasika never mentioned anything about this.

"He knows how to please, I assure you. He'll do whatever you tell him. I'm told he's been trained in the bedroom arts. He's a beautiful dancer, and the chief courtesan tells me he has quite a voice."

My face heats, not at the praise, but at the way Sasuke's eyes are now roving over the exposed parts of my body. I feel uncharacteristically self-conscious.

"So what do you say, Uchiha-san?"

Sasuke lifts a single grape off his plate, rolling it between his fingertips as he studies me. Me, the one posing as a sex slave sitting on the knee of one of the underground's most powerful kingpins. My lips are dry, so I lick them. Sasuke's cobalt gaze finally leaves my face as he slips the grape between his own lips.

"I accept your offer. The slave seems suitable enough to my tastes."

Karin faints.

"Excellent!" shouts Kumar, clapping his hands twice. He pushes me off his lap and into the arms of one of the harem's eunuchs. "Let's talk business."

That's the usual cue for the main hall to empty, giving the Sairi private time with his guests to discuss trade and business in seclusion. The chatter dies down. The servants scurry about to clean. The guards snap out of their stupors. I find myself being led out of the hall toward the harems. The eunuch strips me of my garb, throws me into the bath water, and leaves me with the order to soak until his return.

I pull my knees to my chest.

Can I panic now?

I would say, yes…

I have every right to be on edge, thank you very much. The last time I found myself alone with that bastard, we'd been on opposite ends of the battlefield doing everything in our power to rip each others' head off. As usual the confrontation ended in a huge stand still – we had to be dragged off each other – with the usual repercussion. You know, screaming teammates, maps needing to be redrawn, and of course the always present declarations of murder and heroism, basically a big fucking mess.

And they expect me to entertain, let alone "share company" the asshole ! What's worse, I'm supposed to sleep with him. Kumar's basically wrapped my virginity in white wrapping paper, not that Tsunade and the council didn't already do the same, and given it away to an, as far as I know, asexual bastard who's more likely to kill me than fuck me. In fact, I think he would rather kill me.

Hell to the no.

I am not doing it. Screw the mission. Screw the council. Screw Kumar and shove a kunai up his ass.

It's not like the whole thing hasn't been blown to hell already. If my cover is blown, I'm as good as dead. Sasuke's bound to have realized who Yoshi really is. I am neither ignorant nor thick enough to even consider hoping for the possibility that, by some miracle of the cosmos, the Uchiha didn't figure out it was me the second our eyes met in the main hall.

How long until the guard comes back again?

"Yoshi!" calls one of the eunuchs.

Crap!

* * *

For the next hour I find myself primped, permed, polished and thoroughly humiliated at the hands of the harem's overseers. They scrub me clean, _inside_ and out – while not the most terrible thing I've ever gone through, is horribly uncomfortable, particularly when you know to what end. Not that it's a completely novel experience. Jiraiya had me sit through something similar once; don't ask. And before you throw your minds into the gutter, it wasn't like that!

I feel like a woman at the obscene amount of make-up they've caked on around my eyes. The kohl itches. They've painted my hands and feet with some sort of red dye – I hope it washes out before I get home. I'll get enough grief over the ear piercing. I guess you could say they dressed me, but that would imply that they actually covered me up. The pants, white just like the ones I was wearing earlier, barely even stay on. They have slits up the sides and the only thing keeping me from mooning everybody in my path is a thin silver sash. And what a security measure that is too! All you have to do is pull in the right place and… yeah, they're off.

So it is with retribution I find myself escorted (che, more like slung over a shoulder and hauled) into one of the guest suites and deposited on an oversized bed, wearing little more than a pair of skimpy harem pants and bits of jewelry, and left to patiently await the arrival of my would be paramour for the week. That is assuming he doesn't just chidori my half-naked ass out a window.

Ouch…

So I wait, fidgety and losing my mind with anxiety as the minutes tick by. Eventually, I sneak a bit of food off the tray of sweet meats they left in here with me. They're meant for Sasuke, but who cares, right?

I chew slowly. Something tastes off. Perhaps it would be better to just spit it out.

"Your room, Uchiha-sama."

The door creaks open, and I choke down the food in my mouth.

"I hope you find everything to your liking," says the guard. The air stalls in my throat at the sight of Sasuke as the shinobi seems to glide into the room. The guard shuts the door as he exits, and I try to swallow around the lump in my throat.

Sasuke's pitch black eyes find my form coolly. I'm sitting on the edge of the bed with my knees drawn up to my chest and a small table on the floor beside me with a fresh pot of tea and the sweet meats I mentioned earlier. He turns his back to me, stripping of his shirt and shoes and shedding his weapons.

I'm sure what I expect him to do, but he asks a question.

"What's your name?"

"Yoshi," I answer, playing the character. He approaches me silently, half naked and staring at me intensely. The muscles of his torso ripple minutely with each step. I've never received such an open view of Sasuke's body. I look away, refusing to react.

"Yoshi," he repeats. The bed dips to carry his weight. "Do you know who I am?"

I think the question is do you know who I am.

"Yes," I answer as he leans in towards me. My eyes stay trained on a spot on the wall. I refuse to appear cowed by the proximity. He's so close his breath ghosts over my cheek.

"Do you know what I am capable of?"

"I have an idea."

My forefinger presses against the kunai I've hidden beneath the sash. It's not much I know, but it's better than being weaponless. I don't dare draw on my chakra stores for risk of putting the Uchiha on alert.

"Are you afraid of me?"

I angle my head to look him dead in the eye.

"No."

It's not Yoshi's answer. It's mine, but it's the truth. One side of the man's mouth angles upward in that familiar godforsaken smirk. A satisfied glint enters his eyes.

"Excellent."

Why isn't he calling my charade?

He leans away from me reaching for and taking one of the meats from the tray.

"You must be hungry. Kumar doesn't exactly feed his servants well."

He raises the food to my face; I eye it suspiciously as the juices drip messily along the digits.

"Take it."

I extend a tentative hand to take it, but when my fingertips come within an inch of the morsel, he pulls the snack out of reach with a click of his tongue.

"Open your mouth."

I obey even though my palms are sweaty and my pulse is climbing. What is he playing at? He dips the food into my mouth, and my lips seal around his fingers. My training as a pleasure slave kicks in, and I make a show of moaning when the juice splashes against my tongue and I lick at the digits in my mouth when Sasuke doesn't remove them right away.

He repeats the process of feeding me a few more times. Each time his fingers linger longer and longer in my mouth, and he leans closer and closer until the final time he withdraws his fingers and I find myself pushed onto my back with the raven hovering over me, his hand pressing into the ridges of my ribcage.

He doesn't do anything to me though. His eyes close and reopen, and I'm staring into the spinning wheels of the Sharingan. I'm oddly unconcerned however. My body feels hotter than it should, and I feel heavy. I'm panting despite a distinct lack of exertion. The candles burning in the background, nothing but hazy blurs to my vision, and no matter how hard I try to focus on the flames, they never come into focus.

Sasuke's lips just barely graze over the side of my mouth. The minimalist contact sends a jolt of arousal straight to my groin, causing my breath to hitch and my eyes to widen through the haze. The clouds of my mind part slightly.

That strange flavor I noticed in the sweet meats. The haze, the sudden onslaught of heat, the quickening of my pulse. It wasn't from anxiety or fear. I wasn't from any bit of emotion on my part.

I've been drugged.

"Oh, god," I breathe. I can feel it now. The aphrodisiac clogs through my arteries, releasing endorphins to create a stale synthetic euphoria. Sasuke's fingertips kiss the skin of my belly, and my muscles contract at the shock of sensation.

I feel so helpless. I can't even panic. That part of my brain has been completely disconnected from my sensors. I can't even feel Kyuubi's rage, and I know he's raging. Kurama hates human drugs, especially the kind designed to incapacitate or make someone more vulnerable than they naturally are. God, I feel so stupid. I can't even move. I so much as twitch a finger and it's like electricity prickles up and down my spine.

Sasuke hums. His mouth draws a line alongside my jawbone all the way to my ear. My toes curl, and I screw my eyes shut.

For the second time in my whole life, I find myself lying flat on my back with Sasuke hovering over me and I am completely at his mercy. He could kill me right now, and he wouldn't even need a weapon.

And before I even finish the thought, the Uchiha lifts himself from me and walks to where he left his weapons. There a shrill shriek of metal as he draws his katana. I turn my head. There is a pregnant pause where I stare into his eyes while our world stops. My vision eventually clouds over and the blood rushes through my head, across my dimmed senses, and into my most intimate places all at his unfaltering attention.

I let my head fall away from him.

"Guard!" Sasuke's shout startles me into semi alertness.

Why call a guard? To tattle on me… Wouldn't he rather just dispose of me himself?

The door opens, and I hear the footsteps of one of the compound's guardsman.

"Yes, my lord. How can I be-"

The man's question is cut off. There's a clatter of metal accompanied by the shattering of ceramic. My eyes roll open to find Sasuke holding the guard's face inches away from the boiling hot water now spilt over the floor from the shattered tea pot. The table that had once carried the serving tray is in pieces, and Kusanagi's tip presses dangerously against the man's coronary artery.

"Tell your master that I don't take well to having my food, drink, or whores drugged, no matter what the substance may be. If I have to suffer such an insult again, I will not hesitate to remove his head from his body. Do you understand me?"

"Y-yes, sir," comes the whimpered response.

"Good."

And Sasuke pulls the man up by the scruff of his next into a standing position, all but throwing him out the door with the harsh order to send someone to clean up the mess. He sheaths his sword.

Relief washes through me, cooling and calming now that I know what the bastard was getting at since his arrival into the room. Whether or not he knows of my identity, I thought he was acting oddly chummy for an Uchiha.

But I should've known. It's so funny I'm cracking up on the inside as he approaches the bed once again, side stepping the devastation he's made out of a simple side table. He was using me as a guinea pig.

He puts a hand on my flushed cheek, and turn me so that our eyes meet. He still has his kekkei gekkai activated.

"Sleep, Yoshi," he coos, lips scraping across my own. "You've done well tonight."

Manipulative bastard…

That's the last thing I think before the burning red of the Sharingan lulls me into unconsciousness.

TBC

Author's Note: No smut today… Hehe, I know I'm evil. So what did you think? Suitable for the first night. Don't despair quite yet. We still have a good four more nights of potential SasuNaru time left. I would also like to thank everyone who favorited, alerted, or reviewed the last chapter. I'm tickled pink by the reception this piece has received.

Drop me a review if you have any questions. I happy when I get feedback.

Next chapter coming soon.


	3. Meeting a song with a dance

Disclaimer: I still do not own Naruto.

Warning: The chapter contains content of sexual nature between two male parties. If you disapprove. Turn away quickly.

Enjoy!

Patterned Paper Moon

Chapter 3

Meeting a song with a dance

I woke up the next day with a headache. Like seriously a throbbing migraine. I don't what they slipped into the food but the aftereffects are not pleasant. It takes me a few moments to realize that it is indeed morning – past morning probably, and after that, another three second to sit ramrod straight up in bed as the memories of last night charge at me like a stampeding herd of multiple hachibi through the drug induced haze.

That! That Teme!

The bastard used me as a fucking test subject and then knocked me unconscious. What an ass! Guess, he's more like Orochi-pervert than I thought. Shit! I slept in the same room as Sasuke. I was completely exposed and defenseless in front my bloodthirsty and questionably insane rival for a whole night. I cringe at the thought.

My hands roam over my clothes, making a mental checklist to see if anything is out of order. I puff out a sigh of relief. Other than the hangover, I'm unharmed. My clothes have not been touched. Even the kunai at my waistband is still there, so it would safe to assume he didn't frisk me. More than a little suspicious, but hey, never look a gift horse in the mouth and all right.

I take in the room.

Sasuke is gone. He must already be up and about. Probably in a meeting with Kumar already.

I roll out of the bed and shiver as my bare feet touch the stone tile, but pushing aside the discomfort, I sweep myself and my headache out of the room. It takes a bit of dodging and ducking around corridors, but I eventually make it back to the harem without anyone seeing me. A few of the women are idling in the bathing pool. One of the older males is snoozing on a bed of pillows, lazily picking wild berries out of a bowl.

Parched and still slightly feverish from the aphrodisiacs, I fill a goblet with water and down the contents within seconds. The headache relents slightly. I suck on my parched lips as I go for a refill.

"Yoshi-kun! How did it go?"

And a hand lands smack on my backside.

"Youch!"

I think I jumped at least ten feet into the air. At least. It might have been twenty. I drop the goblet, spilling water everywhere. Good lord, that smarts.

"Don't do that!" I shout, rounding on the person only to stall myself mid rant. It's First Wife. Okay wife might not have been the proper term for her, but that was her title as the chief courtesan of Kumar's harem. She's actually really nice despite being proud of the devil that is her husband. She has a strict hand when it comes to dealing with the younger servants, but overall she is fair when dealing out punishment, unlike her husband.

She looks at me pointedly through the part in her long brown hair.

"Tender?"

Eck! I wave my hands wildly in front of me.

"N-n-no, no! You just scared me, is all. W-w-we didn't even do anything like that!"

"Oh?" She raises a manicured eyebrow at me. Shit, I probably shouldn't have said that. The last thing I need to imply is that I'm not carrying out my duties to the fullest of my ability.

"I mean, he just kind of asked me to go to sleep."

"So he didn't really require your services?"

Unless you count him kissing and petting me after force feeding me food he probably already knew was laced with rare and potent mind altering drugs as a service…

"He seemed to enjoy my company," I lie through my teeth, trying to salvage the situation. She smiles brightly.

"Well, good. That's all that matters. You know Kumar is depending on you. He needs the Uchiha's skills if he wants to accomplish his next objective."

I raise my eyebrows. A scope light clicks on in my head.

"Objective?"

She blinks quickly at me a few times, laughing to herself. An inside joke, I guess.

"Oh, never mind darling. It's nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about. Just business as usual, you know."

I'm sure I can imagine.

"Well, anyway. I was going to dismiss you from your chores so you could rest before the night, but seeing as you're still quite virginal, that won't be necessary. So clean up, and report to the kitchens."

And she glides away before I can even think to say yes, ma'am, but I do listen, eventually finding myself wandering the corridors with a broom and dust pan in hand sweeping up any offensive debris.

I'm pretty much alone. The occasional silent sentinel will pass by me and I'll turn my head away or dodge around them if they're in particularly grabby mood, but that's about it. They'll laugh and get over it. They never talk anyway. The mice are pretty good company at times as well. At least they don't try to grope me or leer at me or anything else these guards think to act upon. They're a little noisier too. The squeaking makes for nice background music.

"Goddamn it woman! Will you stop following me around?"

"I would if you'd stop running away from me, Suigetsu!"

I give pause at the shouting voices nearing me. It's Sasuke's teammates. I duck into a conveniently placed broom cupboard as the shouting intensifies.

"Well, I don't know what you want me to do! Sasuke won't listen to anyone once he's made up his mind on something!"

"You could at least talk to him!"

Karin sounds pissed.

"I don't want to talk to him! If you want to change his mind so badly, you do it. Or are you no longer interested in trying to scavenge for some alone time with _Sasuke-kun_ anymore."

I clamp a hand over my mouth, trying not to laugh at the way Suigetsu mimics Karin's voice. Does the red-head really sound like that whenever she's flirting? Hehe, reminds me of Sakura when we were kids.

"As if! I can hardly even look him in the face anymore."

"That wouldn't happen to be because he decided to, ehem, accept that pleasure slave, is it?"

"No!"

Suigetsu laughs. I hear a distinct note of a fist meeting water. She must have punched him.

"Oi, oi. That was unnecessary."

"Don't be so stupid, Suigetsu. Anyway, I don't like this Kumar fellow or the deal he's trying to make with Sasuke."

Deal?

"Oh, give it a rest, Karin. Sasuke's a big boy. He can make his own decisions."

"But this-"

"Leave me alone, woman!"

Their voices begin to fade down the opposite hallway, leaving me once again to the silent humming of my thoughts. I sneak out of the closet and continue on my way, sweeping occasionally while I think. What kind of deal is Kumar trying to strike with Sasuke? What could be so bad for Karin to be so opposed? Yesterday, Kumar said he had been testing Sasuke's skill with the Sharingan, specifically his skill with the Eternal. What does he need done that only an Uchiha with EMS could accomplish?

Hmm…

Perhaps, if Yoshi plays his cards right, he can find out.

* * *

This time when the guard escorts me to Sasuke's quarters, I'm wearing a loose fit, once again white, thread-bare kimono. It's mildly annoying because the sleeves are far too long for me; they fold over my hands and get in the way whenever I try to grab something. Never mind that the silk is so terribly see-through, you can see my nipples beneath the fabric pretending to cover my chest. Thank God, they let me wear shorts underneath it. Half the complex would know what my ass looked like otherwise. My knife is hidden in the folds of a black obi.

I'll never take my weapon's pouch for granted again.

I tip toe in to find Sasuke already lounging on the bed. He's fully dressed, minus the boots. The dark-haired nin doesn't acknowledge my presence or that guards farewell salute, his attention remains fixated on the unrolled scroll in his lap. He has another blank scroll laid out beside him on the bed, an ink fountain next to it with a fine-haired brush resting on the lip of the well.

Moments pass, and I stand perfectly still by the door. If he never addresses me, then I won't have to go through with anything tonight will I. I want to know what he's reading though. It could be a jutsu. In fact, I expect it is a jutsu. But maybe, just maybe the scroll relates to whatever task Kumar is planning on assigning the Uchiha. If that's the case, I definitely need to get a peek at those documents. Every so often he'll reach over, dip the brush and write something along the blank scroll.

"Can you sing?"

It takes me a second to realize the question is directed at me.

"Yes, Uchiha-sama," I answer.

He holds up a hand, indicating for me to take position at the center of the room without peeling his eyes from the writings in his lap.

"Sing for us then."

He says it carelessly as though giving me something to do is a mere afterthought to him. But the idea of Sasuke Uchiha asking anybody to sing is just, just…

Whatever.

Sasuke wants to hear Yoshi sing. Okay… Did I just get transported to some alternate universe? I position myself at the center of the room not terribly far away from where he sits him but there's plenty of distance between us for buffer space.

I quickly trace my memory over the songs Rasika taught me, deciding on a classical canticle (that's what Rasika called it. It seems more like a lullaby to me) that shouldn't be too upbeat or solemn for the Uchiha's tastes. It's in the old language of the fire country so I can't really understand most of the lyrics, but Rasika told me it is about the shifting of the seasons. There are gestures that go to it as well like the batting of an eye to indicate the flirtatiousness of spring or perhaps a gentle turning of the hand in the direction of the audience, an invitation for play and companionship.

It really is a simple ditty, and whenever I heard Rasika sing it, I found it comely. Here's hoping I can do it justice. I think I'll be okay though. Hinata heard me singing one time after training – I was just practicing really. She turned so red, I was afraid she would die from the blood rushing to her head. She was okay, though. Nothing a quick trip to the hospital couldn't cure. It was actually quite flattering, now that I think about it, but then again she's always done stuff like that around me. I haven't the slightest idea why.

I clear my throat and begin with a soft hum.

Unsurprisingly, Sasuke absorbs my performance with the only most profound measure of apparent disinterest I've seen in anyone. I know he's listening or at least hearing me, but he maintains his focus on the scroll in front of him. I give it no heed, continuing on and making a point to ignore his lack of response.

The music rises and falls easily from my lips. The harmony dipping in and out of the room sweetly, innocently at my beck and call. My fingers dance along with the tune, forming meaningless shapes and designs. I can give them meaning though, make them palpable to our perceptions. A word woven around a gesture can be pretty powerful when it comes to the softer arts. It can inspire the imagination, heighten the senses, and even alter the mind.

In my humble opinion, I'm doing quite well. My voice lowers to a husky timbre, and the notes flood the room as gently as my breath. My gestures are minimal, small movements meant to only just draw the eye.

As I sing, I notice his head begin to tilt in my direction.

I smirk inwardly at my subtle victory. Good. After all, my role as a slave is to entertain.

My movements become longer as my hips begin to sway. My body moves slowly, tenderly with the song in a dance. My movements are neither erotic nor seductive in nature. Well, they might be a little seductive, but it's nothing outright. When you dance, you movements should be executed with the intention to tempt and entice not arouse. That's what Rasika taught me. I'm not entirely sure I know the difference, but at least the dance doesn't ask me gyrate or strip or touch myself or anything else like that.

That would be just ick… Especially in front of Sasuke.

I get a mental image of that, and I shudder. Imagine those eyes watching me as I try to get myself off… Hell no! I may not be a particularly shy guy, but I do have standards. I don't think I could even take it if someone asked me to look into a mirror while I did it. And no, I've never even thought of using my shadow clones for any similar activity. Okay, there was that one time, but it hardly counts.

But, then again, would it be so bad if it provided the right kind of distraction to the secretive nin across the room, Sasuke who is now openly gazing at me.

I'm still not going to do it, but maybe something a little more alluring with enrapture him.

I pull up a sleeve of the kimono, showing just the barest hint of my wrist, as I reach to take hold of two of the decorative fans lining the walls. They tell me Kumar enjoys making a show of his pleasures. These shows can demonstrate anything as innocent as storytelling all the way to the darker more forbidden aspects of love sport. You can imagine what other manner of artifacts he keeps hidden around the compound for us 'whores' to use. I'm only thankful he keeps the R-rated materials in his personal chambers, far away from the guests.

The fan snaps as I open it, and Sasuke's eyes, now blood red, snap to the sound. I allow my leg to just barely part the fabric of my kimono. I shiver. The air is cold on the bare skin of my inner thigh. The bit of exposed flesh draws his eye like a moth to a flame.

I let myself sink into the natural rhythms of my body, manipulating the fan to the sound of my voice and the pulsing of my very blood. Fans are so hypnotizing, don't you think? They way they can be twisted and turned in a skilled hand. The brush goes limp in Sasuke's hand, and he eventually rids himself of the object entirely as he rolls up the scrolls on either side of him, all the while keeping one eye on me. I make a mental note of his placement of the scrolls. The one he was copying from now lies on the night stand next to some of his gear.

Our eyes meet. It's hard not to flinch in the face of the Sharingan, but I don't. My own sky blues smolder in response just for a moment before I turn my back to him finishing my dance with a slow tilting of my head backward, following the motion through until my back bends. The fans rise up over my head. My legs are spread. My knees bend. I angle my head so my shoulder hits the floor as I slink down to lie on the ground displaying myself in a more that provocative manner.

His eyes close with a small sigh.

I don't know if the reason is because he is simply enjoying the music or because he's imagining something a little sultrier.

I risk a glance at the scroll rolled up on the bedside table. It's well within reach. If I can just distract him long enough, perhaps I can win myself a peek. I know exactly how to get it. It's just a matter of exhausting him to the point of sleep.

I watch him carefully as I finish the song, looking up at him from my spot on the floor and debating my next move. It's gonna be risky.

It's odd, seeing Sasuke so still. I mean, I've seen him sit still before (mostly when he was brooding) but never like this. He looks so calm. The intense lines of his face have relaxed in a rather charming disposition. Not that I think Sasuke's charming or anything. It's just nice to almost be able to forget his appearance when the opposite happens and he's being driven mad by his bloodlust. Almost…

I inch my way closer to the bed. Black eyes, like a tiger's tracking its prey, watch my every move until my knee slips onto the silk of the doublet.

I slip my hands between the folds of his haori and part the fabric, bringing to my view the entirely of his torso, all lean muscle and pale skin. (How is it he is so pale, anyway? Surely, he does at least some of his training in the sunlight. When we were kids we used to train outside all the time. It was weird; he wouldn't get any darker. Course, he wouldn't burn either which I guess is a good thing. His brother wasn't that pale, was he?) He's sweating slightly from the heat of the room. I lean my head forward and breathe carefully, letting the cool air ghost over his flesh as I study his face.

His eyes open. They flash with something I can't really identify, but then it's as though he's shocked to see me, the pleasure slave Yoshi, sitting there touching him in a more than intimate manner.

"Uchiha-sama?" I whisper to him, leaning down to plant a kiss on his breast. He breathes harshly when my teeth find the flesh of his pectoral, but he does nothing to stop me. His arms stay limp at his sides, deep black pools open and watching, like a tiger tracking its prey.

"What can I do to please you, Uchiha-sama?"

Oh god, I feel so naughty. Rasika would be so proud. Ero-sennin would die of a nose bleed if he ever saw this. Maybe I'll tell him the story as some book material for him.

Sasuke doesn't answer me. He just watches me, unblinking as though memorizing my actions and appearance. Hell, with those eyes, he might very well be recording me. I look him straight in the eye, unafraid of the potential hazard posed by looking directly into the Sharingan. There's a bit of challenge there, like he is both curious as to how far I'm willing to take this and eager to see this performance to its end, whatever that may be.

One of my hands finds the fleshy part of his thigh and kneads the muscle through the fabric of his pants. My fingertips work their way over his legs over the crest of his hip bones and into the washboard surfaces of his abdomen. They barely just kiss the flesh there, raising gooseflesh over the exposed skin.

His eyes slide shut once again.

I slip my hands underneath him to gently massage the plain of his lower back while my teeth scrap against the tender skin just above his waistband. He arches ever so slightly, making room so my hands can travel up to press into his ribcage. I can smell the musk of his arousal from here. The top tie of his pants comes undone easily when my teeth tug at the cloth. The snake charmer's engorged flesh rises out of the folds to meet me.

I don't think he means to vocalize, but the groan that escapes his chest sends the blood rushing straight to my groin. I ignore it.

My lips grace a kiss to the very tip before I open my mouth, and find myself promptly thrown across the room.

"Argh!"

I yelp as my back collides with the wall.

Sasuke is standing, hastily pulling himself back into the safety of his trousers. The wheel of the Sharingan spins erratically. My heart pounds harder, faster. I try not to cower when he strides forward to hover over me.

"What the hell do you think you were doing?"

He's freaking out, screaming at me. I don't know what about, but freaking nonetheless. I have no idea what spooked him. And he looks crazed enough to kill. Shit, I made the ice prince react to a sexual advance. I'm in deep, deep trouble. I reach for the kunai at my waist, but his hand snatches my wrist before I even make it a quarter of the way there.

"Uchiha-sama?"

"Don't fucking call me that, dobe!"

I gasp. He withdraws violently as though someone just slapped him, and it certainly wasn't me. Time stops. The pounding of my pulse is loud in my ear. The Sharingan melts away, leaving me staring into wide dilated pupils. Oh, fuck. He knows it's me. I'm dead. I'm deader than dead. I'm six feet under with my eyes gouged out and my tongue cut off. Hell, he might even sew my lips shut.

"Sorry, Yoshi-kun" he bites out, fingertips sliding from their death grip around my wrist. "I mistook you for someone else."

I blink… He turns away. Was it a slip up? Was it really?

He returns to his spot on the bed.

"Leave me," he orders, pulling the scroll – oh, that tricky, mysterious scroll I want to get my hands on so badly – back into his lap to continue studying it as though the past minutes hadn't happened at all.. "I have no further need for you tonight."

I rise slowly from my huddle position on the ground. My feet pad lightly against the floor on my way to the door. I want, no, I need to get out of here.

"You can sing for me again tomorrow night."

"Yes, my lord."

I hate that my voice trembles.

That's an odd thing to call him. Sasuke doesn't seem to like the term either, but he digresses.

"However, you will not touch me again without my say so. Now go. I have work to do."

I remain mute, bowing deeply, trying not to appear too eager to leave the room. But still I judge my own steps far too hurried, my pulse face too fast. It's racing, my heart, and I feel like if I don't put as much distance as I can between myself and the last Uchiha, I'll suffocate to death.

How ironic that now I run from him.

Running, running, running until I reach the safety of the harem, stopping myself, allowing myself to breathe before entering. It doesn't work. It's a wonder I don't slam the door shut behind me. Only once the heavy wooden has been locked into place, do I relax and take in my new surroundings. A distinctly Sasuke-less surrounding.

It's quiet. Everyone is asleep except for me. I pick my way around the sleeping bodies to my usual bedding, diving into the down of the pillows.

He called me dobe.

Don't know what it means. Does he know who I am, or was he maybe just fantasizing about me? I don't know. I don't understand. Maybe Yoshi just reminds him of me. Yeah, that has to be it. He wouldn't have let me run for it if he knew it was me. He wouldn't have left me well enough alone last night if he'd known it was me. He would have driven his sword straight through my chest, alerted the guards, hell, he might even have taken advantage of the situation and blackmailed me into doing something to save my mission. It's not the most likely of options, but you never know with that bastard.

But this?

I can't help but let my thoughts flood with the possibilities. What did I do to make Sasuke Uchiha, the world's most emotionless popsicle, act like that? He threw into a wall for the Hokage's sake. And the way his eyes had spun.

It's almost as if I scared him.

What a queer thought?

Oh, man, now I'm giving myself a headache again. Screw this.

I'll have some time to figure out what Sasuke's problem is tomorrow. Until then, I just need Yoshi to stay his same sex slave self and be a good little boy until this is all over. Oh, god, I can't wait to go home. What I wouldn't give for a steaming hot bowl of Ichiraku's right about now. It always does serve to calm my nerves. But I can be thankful. I'm here. Sasuke may know my identity or he may not, but either way, I'm not dead yet; neither has my mission been completely debauched.

But hey sometimes, just knowing you've still got a chance is enough to sleep at night.

TBC

Author's Note: Consider yourselves cock-blocked. hehe. I know I'm evil. Just wait a little longer for it. I've got plenty smutty goodness in store for you next chapter.

So tell me what you think. Is Sasuke in character? He's so hard to write sometimes, but I'm really trying to get him down for this story. His reactions are important for what comes later on.

Drop me a review, and I'll catch you later.


	4. Meeting bloodshed with a kiss

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of this story. They, Sasuke and Naruto, are the property of Kishi-sama and I am not making any money off of this work.

Warning: This chapter contain extreme yaoi content, meaning boyxboy situations of a sexual, mature nature. This chapter also contains mentions of bloodshed and copious amounts of gore that implicate darker themes. So, proceed with caution if either of these topics makes your stomach turn. If not...

Enjoy!

Patterned Paper Moon

Chapter 4

Meeting bloodshed with a kiss

There's a loose thread on the very edge of the comforter. I can't help but pick at it as the seconds tick by slower than the creeping of an old, ready-to-drop-dead tortoise. How long have I been in here by myself? And why exactly am I still here just wasting my sweet time doing absolutely nothing because they told me to "wait here"?

Wait for what, you ask. Sasuke, of course. That's more of a who, isn't it?

Whatever.

They dropped me off almost three hours ago. I've paced. I've meditated. I've even snooped around a bit in hopes of finding something out, but the room is completely bare of all of Sasuke's belongings other than a few meaningless changes of clothes and blank scrolls. I suspect he's off carrying out Kumar's objective. It's certainly been long enough for them to have finalized any agreements.

It's been three days and two nights since I found myself unceremoniously thrown into the plaster after going through with my bright idea of trying to give the ice prince a bit of a blow. This makes night number five since I've become Sasuke's room service provider. The last two nights passed by in much the same manner as the last one I told you about - without the whole head being banged into a wall fiasco recurring. And, no I'm not complaining. So far, Sasuke has asked me only to sing, dance or tell a story of some sort for him. He's allowed me to perform for him, entertain him, but never to accost him in a sexual manner, and personally after being flung across the room that first time, I'm not willing to try it again.

He has asked me to touch him, not there, but I'll massage his back from time to time. He really likes it when I pay special attention to the muscles of his arms and legs. His shoulders are usually hard as rocks by the end of the day. I found a knot there the other day. Holy damn, that had been a bitch to get out. Seriously, the guy is as stiff as he is crazy, and depending on the what day of the week it is, he can be pretty crazy, and I don't just mean in a murderous bastard sense, either. Don't tell Sakura I said that. Don't ask me why.

Thankfully, he hasn't called me anything other than Yoshi. Of course, that's if he even bothers to name me anything other than 'you'. At least, he doesn't just call me slave. I don't think I could refrain from punching the life out of him if he did. But I'm starting to believe that he legitimately has no knowledge of my true identity, or if I'm wrong, I get the feeling that he has no intention of revealing that little tidbit of information to any of Kumar's guards any time soon.

The thought calms my nerves just a little

What isn't so soothing is the fact that I have yet to find out anything substantial about the deal Kumar and Sasuke are striking, and it's frustrating as all hell. I haven't even managed so much as a glimpse of the scroll. The teme never leaves it unattended, and if by some chance he does put it down, it's never out of his line of sight. He never freaking relaxes. Heck, I was giving him a massage just last night. He was on his stomach and I was straddling his waist for easier access to his neck, and I could have sworn he fell asleep after thirty minutes. Like, seriously, I mean dead to the world asleep. Well, me being me, I thought I'd see if I could snatch the damn thing off the table, so I decided to reach over. I got pretty close. My fingers actually touched the scroll, but then I had the crap scared out of me when a certain somebody decided to open his eyes right at that exact moment.

I just about fell off the bed when he spoke. (My head even hit the bloody table. I have the bump to prove it.) Next thing I know, Sasuke is looking at me like I've lost my mind. Yes, that had been fun to cover up. And the story I came up with ended up getting me kicked out for the remainder of the evening; I told him I was looking for the, umm, oil. Yeah, you know massage oil. Okay, that might not have been what I actually said at the time, but it was all I could think of.

Leave me alone. I didn't know he would react so badly to it.

I don't even know if it ticked him off. I mean, sure, I got thrown out onto my ass, but I'm still here, aren't I? He didn't tell Kumar or anything so he has to have some interest in me yet, otherwise, I would be back in the harem asleep under a pile of comfy pillows and blankets, not stuck waiting all by myself in an empty room. Then again maybe I did piss him off, and that's why he's still notably absent?

"Where the hell is he?" I growl, throwing myself onto the mattress.

The sun set hours ago, and the candle burning all alone from its place on the mantel is at the cusp of burning itself out of wax and wick. It's almost hypnotizing to watch the tiny flame flicker and fight to stay alive just little while longer. I silently root for it even though I know its chances are bleak. My eyes burn, and I exhale softly as my eyelids grow heavier and heavier…

* * *

I wake up with a sharp exhale.

Shit, I didn't even realize I'd fallen asleep.

I sit up, carefully. It's completely dark outside. I can hear the rain pelting down against the windows. Is that what woke me up? I doubt it. I sleep through storms easy. A thunderclap, maybe? The room is so dark I can't even see an inch in front of my face as I peer into the darkness. Something's here. I can feel a fresh chakra signature on the air, one that I know very well.

I jolt a bit when the thunder crashes loudly outside. The lightning illuminates the room in a blinding flash, and that's when I see him, standing tall and proud in the darkest corner of the room. Then the light is gone leaving only an afterimage, coupled with the burning leftover shine of deep, black eyes.

I reach over quickly and snap on the floor light, eyes wide as I look back in the figure's direction.

Sasuke stands there, covered in the crimson cloak of freshly spilt blood.

I don't move. He doesn't move. He doesn't speak. He doesn't even blink. We are still as a held breath on the air. His expression vacant and unreadable. It's eerie.

"Uchiha-sama?"

My question seems to pull the man out of his daze. He nods his head. A hand, the one not gripping a blood soaked katana, gestures for me to approach him. That's all the reaction I get though. I slide carefully off the bed and onto the floor. God, he's covered in gore. A chunk of it drips off his sword hilt to glob itself on the floor. I ignore the bile that rises in my throat.

I know the feeling. I too have had my hands covered in blood. It's a part of the life you lead as a shinobi. They say you're supposed to get used to it, but personally, I hope I never get accustomed the feel of someone else's life fluid being anywhere on my body.

My shinobi instincts kick in. I need to check for injury, but to do that I'll need to wash him. The idea of asking him to bathe himself pops into my head only fleetingly. It seems entirely too absurd to even ask. He still hasn't move an inch in any direction, let alone said anything since I spotted him in the dark. The idea of me washing him is even more absurd, but we can take this one step at a time. Maybe, he'll snap out of whatever the hell this is (Uchiha-angsty time?) in a couple of minutes.

I reach forward slowly, the way one approaches a wounded animal, and take the katana out of his hand. He doesn't fight me. Neither does he push me away when I take his hand and pull him in the direction of the wash room.

He just stares blankly ahead of him as I fill a basin with water, grabbing a small wash cloth on my way back to him. He is resolutely still, though is eyes slide in my general direction when I kneel in front of him. I vaguely wonder if he can even see me. I heard somewhere that overuse of the Sharingan can cause temporary blindness as well as permenant, but then I remember that he has the eternal now. Such maladies will never affect him.

His gloved hands seem to float up of their own accord to hover in front of my face. The message is clear enough.

My fingers tremor only a little when I pull the gloves and guards from his arms, depositing on the nearby countertop. My hands don't really start to shake until I work the fabric of his haori loose and away from his body. I'm unsure about proceeding to his pants, but he lifts one foot and then the other so I can remove his boots, and by that point were past the returning point, aren't we. I don't dare remove his under garments, a pair of plain boxer briefs, but I'm careful to avoid touching him as much as possible as I guide his trousers to his ankles; at which point, he steps out of them easily.

I breathe a small sigh of relief as I move back behind him to where I left the water basin.

With his clothes stripped off, he doesn't look nearly as bloody, devil may cry as before. There are still splashes of the liquid on his skin, but I can tell none of it is his own.

He rolls his shoulders back as his neck arches to look back at me for a moment. His eyes docile, open and closed in that way only Sasuke can pull off when he's looking at you with any sort of non-divulged meaning on his face. His right arm raises toward me, forearm turned skyward, palm up, a silent askance for me to continue my ministrations.

I swallow thickly, keeping my eyes downcast as I dip the cloth and rise to meet him. It seems fitting to wash that hand first. So I drag the cloth over his skin, scraping off the congealed mess of blood spattered about everywhere. He groans slightly as my fingers press into a sore spot on his back. The corded muscles twitch and jolt as though they've recently been harshly over used. I can only imagine.

So I proceed with mechanical organization, trying not to think about what I'm doing and who I'm doing it to. Wet the cloth, squeeze out excess water, scrub one patch of bare flesh at a time, try not to be too rough when the muscles tense or the bones give a little too easily, watch carefully for any indication that I might need to run away quickly, rinse, and repeat.

He even lets me wash his face and neck, and he sits so I can quickly lather his hair with soapy water before carefully rinsing away the suds. I think I imagined him making some sort of moaning noise, because it definitely seemed like a farfetched concept. I work across his chest and abdomen, dip into the subtle curve of his lower back, and glide over the contours of his legs, peeling off crusty red flakes until I'm completely satisfied with the Uchiha's appearance and his skin gleams pale but healthy in the low lamplight.

I towel him dry with a fresh linen.

He doesn't move as I gather the soiled clothes and return to the bedroom to scavenge for something he might not be completely opposed to wearing. Maybe I should think about wiping down the puddle of clotted mess at the doorway, too. I throw him a cursory glance over my shoulder as I leave.

I haven't the slightest idea what wrong with the bastard. What the hell did he just finish doing that the result would put him in this catatonic state? I shudder to ask. I don't want to know. It must be bad; this is the man who laughed out a yes when Kakashi asked him if he'd killed Danzou. That is one side of Sasuke. The avenger. The criminal driven to insanity by the lies and betrayals that fester at the very heart of the shinobi existence. It's the side I've been exposed to the most as of late, far out numbering the quiet moments our battles tend to have when a chirping Chidori meets the whirring of a Rasengan. But it's in those silence that I always remember what I used to see in him, what I can still see in him when they happen.

It's that side that I see now.

The wounded child. The broken heart. The man who grew up knowing his entire family had died for some unclear and unjust reason. I always wondered what would happened when he finally reached his initial endgame. What did he do after he killed Itachi? Did he laugh like he had with Danzou? Somehow, I doubt that. Even without knowing what the truth was at the time, I can't imagine Sasuke actually relishing in ending his brother – che, if you want to talk about hollow victories, there's one.

No… I imagined he cried. I'm sure he cried. He probably screamed, too.

I hear the soft scraping of fabric against the skin from where I'm hunched over a dresser looking for clothing and feet smack against the floor behind me. I look back.

I can't believe I didn't notice him come in.

Sasuke stares back at me from the bathroom doorway. Apparently, he's already found himself a pair of clean pants because only the skin of his naked chest greets me. I keep an eye on him as I slide the drawer shut wary of not slamming it too hard.

He staring at me openly now, and I realize it's the first time since he came in for the night that he's actually looked at me rather than the wall or a piece of toiletry. My own gaze greets his, curious about the sudden eye contact. He's oddly open, right now. I can practically visualize the wheels turning in his head as we stare back at each other, the sound of falling rain the only soundtrack to the pregnant silence. It's like he's trying to come to terms with a decision, rolling it over in his head, weighing it, deciding whether he wants to toss it or not, but then… he blinks. The Sharingan smolders, and my breath hitches. The simple look sends tendrils of heat coursing through my limbs.

Suddenly, I've very aware of his half-nakedness. Suddenly, I've very aware of my own garb, revealing as it is as is custom, the harem pants from four nights ago. My tongue flicks out over my now too dry lips. His eyes trace the movement, embedding the small action into his retina, and strangely, he mimics movement, albeit so slowly it draws my attention. My pulse rises, and I notice my jaw slacken just as the pink appendage disappears behind too pale lips.

A lightning bolt startles me out of my revere.

I mentally smack myself. I let my thoughts run away with me.

I visibly shake myself, looking back to the ninja standing across from me. Sasuke still eyes me, some unknown intention shimmering bright as daylight in his eyes, but he still hasn't so much as moved a muscle in my direction.

"Uchiha-sama? Is there anything-"

I choke on the sentence. My world tilts, lightning blinds my vision, and I find myself thrown sloppily on the bed. Blurred hands all but rip out the tie keeping my pants around my hips. He captures my flailing hands in his own and promptly uses the tie to bind them above my head. Oh, God. Oh, God! Oh, God!

I push the panic button.

"Uchiha-sama-!"

Another mouth shuts me up in a bruising kiss. Cold fingers grip at my jaw, holding me in place and forcing my lips to part. The rush of blood burns my cheeks when I moan, loudly, shamelessly. The nails of his free hand dig into my clothed thigh, and he shoves a knee between my legs before violently wrenching away his lips.

"I thought I told you not to call me that," he growls into my ear.

His lips are hot against my throat. My head spins when he bites down at my pulse. I screech (In a very manly way… oh who am I kidding?). And then his teeth are gone, tongue laving at the tender flesh before he moves on to repeat the process on a new patch of untouched flesh. Kami, I think I'm getting hard!

I pant through the mixed pain and pleasure, trying desperately to get a word in edgewise.

"For-forgive me, but, hah…, ah… I don't know what to call y-you?"

He lifts himself from his place at my collarbone to look into my face, the Sharingan spinning wildly. The digits of his right hand tangle in my hair and yank backwards forcing me to arch into his chest. A little pained/pleasured noise escapes the back of my throat, and he returns his attention to my throat.

"You will call me Sasuke," he growls out between nips. "Just Sasuke, nothing more, nothing less. Understand?"

"Yes…"

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, Sa-Sasuke," I bite out through the arduous angle.

"Good," he grunts, and he kisses a path to my chest. My former panic burns to ash underneath his ministrations. His hands, his, tongue, his lips, his teeth, they're everywhere and nowhere at the same time. And his nails scraping down my sides all the way to the dip of my hip is enough to heighten my ardor. His tongue, that wicked appendage, dips in to the center of my navel. I can feel him smile into my belly when his hand comes in contact with the evidence of my arousal and rubs.

I can't hold back the moan. My muscles tense and release as he paws me through the fabric. I screw my eyes shut. I can do this. It's too much. I can't watch him watching me.

And, before I can even think of being ashamed of the fact that I'm responding to Sasuke of all people those hands tear the remaining fabric from my body. The flimsy material never stood a fucking chance. My eyes fly open.

"Sasuke!"

I hiss at the rush of cold air on my sensitive flesh. I try to reach down to do something. Grab the pants, cover myself, close my legs, pull up my knees, do anything to hide myself and the weapon I'd hidden from my view because he is looking, and he is memorizing, but Sasuke doesn't let me. His hand catches my wrists and pulls me, struggling, down into his body, his parted knees keeping my legs from finding each other. My eyes snap around to watch him toss the clothing clear across the room to land in with a dull thud on the floor. I wince. That would have been the kunai.

Did he notice it? Of course, he did.

He leans forward until his face is but mere millimeters from my own.

"Don't be so tense," he whispers. "I'm not going to hurt you."

The way he purrs the words into my ear, and all thoughts of missions, kunai, enemies, and sex slaves are abandoned, replaced by the haze my rapidly plummeting imagination fight desperately to figure out just how many different things he could possibly mean by that sentence.

"So, tell me, _Yoshi_," (I shiver at how slowly, carefully, almost sarcastically he pronounces the foreign name.) "Have you ever touched yourself?"

He leans into me putting pressure right over my groin. It's all I can do to nod my head yes, an ache starting to build in my lower abdominals.

Sasuke hums in acknowledgement.

"Kumar, tells me you're entirely untouched, but I want to hear it from you. Have you ever let anyone else touch you?"

I close my eyes and shake my head, turning my head until my cheek brushes the soft silk of the bedding. Sasuke's hand is gentle under my chin when he lifts and angles me back toward him. A few soft words and phantom kisses across either side of my jaw line and temples coax me to open my eyes once more. I've never had such a personal view of the Sharingan. I've never noticed how the red in it isn't so much a dye that engulfs the normal eye but more of a swirling mass of mist that has pervaded the formerly existing ebony. It's no wonder the Uchiha clan was always proficient at genjutsu. Simply looking into their eyes can hypnotize. I blink slowly when Sasuke's lips part against mine. He breathes out one word.

"Good."

And it hits me hard as an anvil that I know exactly what he's going to do as his face slides away from my own, and he snakes his way down the length of my body, and I don't know if I truly am completely defenseless to stop it or if my desire to halt this skewed up rollercoaster is just lacking. Either way I do nothing.

The muscles of my inner thighs quiver with anticipation as his fingers trace ghostly circles at the juncture of my thigh and hip.

**(The following content has been removed to fit the guidelines of . If you are of age and would like to read the mature content, please see below.)**

I don't believe this.

I can barely move from where I lie prone on my belly, ass still slightly arched into the air at the will of his hands and limbs falling limp as jelly in my post climax bliss. My awareness tunes itself acutely to the fluids seeping steadily from my body, the saliva trailing down the backs of my thighs and out of my most intimate place, and probably most of all the hand still nestled between my legs soaked with the evidence of my previous frenzy. The frenzy the owner of said appendage had incited and brought to full flame in what felt like the longest and shortest moment of my entire existence.

Sasuke's tongue languorously laves at the bite mark on my shoulder a moment longer before urging me to roll over as he sits back on his hunches. I feel more naked now, covered in hickies courtesy of the Uchiha now looking back at me between long uneven osculation of his tongue as it laps the dripping semen off the digits of his right hand. The blood rushes straight to my head at the sight. Oh, lord, I think I'm going to faint. Fainting sounds like a good idea right now. I don't know if I can manage it but being unconscious rather than in this unreal reality is far more appealing to me at the moment.

"You should sleep here tonight. Your company would not be entirely unwelcome."

I'm tempted to fall to my knees and start praising the first god that comes to mind the second the nin decides to stop lapping at his hand like a cream enamored feline and leaves the room in the direction of the bathroom.

"Oh God…" I breathe, drawing a hand over my face and trying to bury myself into the pillow. Everything feels leaded, lazy, and loathe to move.

I peel my eyes open only a little when a damp cloth graces my thigh to find Sasuke cleaning me. His eyes are back to their normal black, stoic selves, and he looks wholly unlike the way I would expect a man, or woman for that matter, to look after having just rubbed and licked an orgasm out of me. I seek out his eyes, but for some reason or another he refuses to meet my gaze – feeling shy all of the sudden, bastard?

Fine by me, I think as the feeling of the towel disappears from my skin to be replaced by the cool linen of the bed sheet. When did he pull it out from under me... I can't bring myself to care. I'm so sleepy. I only dully listen to Sasuke speak.

"Tomorrow will be our last night together. I hope you're ready."

His hand brushes the stray hair from my forehead, and the darkness closes in around me as my eyelids droop shut.

But as I fade from reality, I could swear his fingertips trace the outlines of my whisker marks, or at least where my whisker marks would be if I were Naruto. But I pay it no mind. Th genjutsu is still in place if the brown hair floating in my sleep laden eyes is any indication, and I'm so tired I must be imagining things.

So I let myself drift off to sleep.

TBC

Author's Note: Sooo... What do you think? Was it drool worthy or not? Do let me know. For the full unedited version of this chapter, visit my livejournal page. The link will be up on my profile page.

So the million dollar question: Does Sasuke know it's Naruto or not? Let me know your take on the situation.

Drop me a review if you have any questions or comments.


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